Averted Memories
by vaude.renz
Summary: Vice Counsel DuPont. There must be more to the man than what is presented on screen. Shall we dig deeper and find out his past? The memories? What made him be the vice counsel? And perhaps his loves? Updated: Chapter Five rating Teen, subject to change
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

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"Vice-Counsel."

A shadow at the 'T' window inclined its head slightly, indicating that it was listening.

"We've captured a sense offender who demanded to see you," said the guard dressed in black leather wearing, upon his head, a modified motorcycle helmet.

The shadow at the window turned, streams of light hitting an immaculate young man. "What is the name?" Vice-Counsel DuPont asked.

"She did not disclose it to us, sir."

"Find it, before you bring her to me."

The guard nodded. "Yes, sir." Then he turned quickly, a well-executed about face, and exited the office. _Must be new,_ thought DuPont. He turned his head back around to face out the window once again. Buildings were erected high and when the sun hit their sides, they seemed to cast foreboding shadows on the city of Libria. This placed a ghost of a smile on the Vice-Counsel's lips. Vice-Counsel. He sighed wearily. Only if everyone knew he was not "Vice-Counsel", but instead, Father. The leader of it all. Even though the real Father had passed long ago, the Council of Libria had decided to keep him as a figurehead. There was no objection to this notion, therefore, it was kept.

DuPont took two measured steps backward and marveled at _his_ city. "It is mine. My word is law. Mine." He loved the feeling of that word upon his tongue. It felt light and crisp, but at the same it was possessive and sharp. Subconsciously, his hand smoothed an invisible wrinkle out of his finely pressed, black, suit jacket. _Beautiful._

Looking at his city was like an accomplishment, a feat of mankind. For it was the hands of man that birthed the war-free, disease-free, cement and steel beast. DuPont took one last glance before walking to his desk. An enormous slate of black marble that rested on sturdy legs. Another beast, but a different, inanimate kind. As soon as his body settled down into the semi-comforting chair, the door to his "office" opened. DuPont inclined his head slightly at the sight of the struggling woman held by the arms. The guard's grasp was secure; she was not going anywhere, no matter how much flailing she did.

Her form was lean and there was a good hint of muscle, a dancer skilled in martial arts perhaps. DuPont could not see her face, for it was covered by a black bag. But it seemed as if her hair color was a mix of dark brown and black.

Dupont's examination of the fugitive was cut short as the guard spoke. "This is the sense offender, Ellen Droiress, sir."

"Leave me. I will handle this."

"But sir-"

"Leave us, Captain."

"Yes, sir."

Captain Rail released his grip on the young woman's arms, and the other guard followed. They left DuPont with the offender, closing the door with an audible, **thump**. DuPont watched them leave before resting his gaze on the being cuffed before him. She was not wearing the normal attire of Libria, but rather a black, tank top dress that fit her form just right. Hugging her curves, but leaving parts comfortable and loose. Her hands were in handcuffs, resting below her stomach.

DuPont removed a key from his pocket and approached the woman. Speaking to her in a calm, yet commanding tone, he unlocked her restraints. "Miss Droiress, please behave and do not run. Is that agreed?" A nod of the black bag was enough. After unlocking the cuffs, DuPont lifted the bag. Hair clung to the inside due to the static, but as soon as the bond was broken, each hair fell back into its place. Seeing Ellen Droiress's face, DuPont froze, hand in the air, holding the black bag. "You..." The Vice-Counsel could not say anything, for he was lost for words. A blink, and no longer was DuPont's grand office in view, with its impossibly high ceiling and stone columns. No, it was all gone. DuPont was revisiting a memory. A memory of his teenage years.

**A/N: ** Thanks for reading chapter one. This is actually the first fanfic that I've decided to post on the internet. ) So I hoped you enjoyed it, and umm...look for chapter two soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

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_Shining brightly, panes of windows cracked. Streaming, hitting each particle of dust. Entrancing. A new dance with each breath of air. Falling, Falling..._

_"Travis!"_

_"Damn it," muttered the young boy._

_"DuPont!"_

_"What," saying the word more like a statement._

_"Travis Orion!"_

_"What!" came the yell, more out of frustration._

_"Do not speak like that! It's rude," a mocking tone was evident in the voice._

_Travis sighed and looked up to the ceiling. An old ceiling. Cracks formed on its surface. Bits and pieces flaked off now and then. People would call it an abandoned or "haunted" house. He and one other knew about this place._

_"Where are you?"_

_In a bored tone, he answered. "In here, next to the living room." Travis could hear shuffling here and there as the person moved some objects around. After a minute, a head popped through the door. "There you are," she stated happily._

_Travis was lying on the floor and it took only a couple of seconds before the other was lying next to him. "You're not afraid to get dirty?" she asked._

_Travis rolled his eyes. "Don't be naive, Droiress."_

_"I'm just asking a question."_

_"An ignorant one."_

_"It is not!"_

_"Yes, it is. You know it is." Travis turned his head to the left so he could face her. She was about a foot away, if less._

_"What?"_

_"Nothing," he grinned._

_"Travis, I'm not going to play your damned mind games. Spit it out!"_

_The seventeen year old DuPont merely smiled and turned his head around to face the ceiling again. "You're so annoying," said Ellen Droiress, then sixteen years old._

_"Kiss me."_

_Hearing this, Ellen raised her body into a sitting position and stared down at Travis. His eyes were closed and his arms were behind his head, supporting it from touching the ground. "What?"_

_In a soft, yet somewhat metallic tone, he whispered, "I'm not going to repeat myself, Ellen."_

_She thought Travis was being childish, but he seemed dead serious. Ellen took in a quick breath and let it out slowly. _I can do this, I've known him for a long time. Besides he's very cute. No, handsome. I like him, alright. I can do it. _Looking at his face, her pulse quickened._ I can do it

_Travis must've had great patience, because time probably past five minutes. He still looked calm, unchanged, serene. Ellen shook her head, closed her eyes, and leaned down. When she was close enough to feel his heat, she opened her eyes, only to have deep blue-green was staring back at her. Ellen reared back slightly, but Travis was faster. In less than five seconds, when Ellen was on top, Travis used his strength to hoist Ellen up and gently turn her on her back. This rollover ended with Travis on top, grinning triumphantly. "Did you honestly thinking I would let you be upon me?" Ellen was too shocked to answer; instead she nodded. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," said he, "we'll just have to see now won't we?"_

_"Mmhmm," was all she could manage. It felt different being suppressed by Travis's weight. Ellen never knew he felt so warm and...solid. Her mind was neither functioning nor dead. It was as if her brain just decided to shift into neutral. Shift into neutral and let his actions decide the next direction of course._

**A/N: **Chapter two. Going into the memories. ooo.. Well, I guess I shove a disclaimer on here...I do not own the character Vice-Counsel DuPont. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Chapter 3. It's a bit short, but I'm busy with school. So hopefully I can keep this up. slaps self Ahem. I will. Stupid of me for even saying such a thing. Blah. Hahha. Okay. Enjoy. Oh. And if anyone can tell me how to indent without it going away when you save. Please do. It's bugging the crap out of me. Thanks. )

**Disclaimer: **(oops, forgot to write one for the first two. ) Anyway. I do not own the characters Vice-Counsel DuPont. Wish I could. grins But sadly, I don't. Anyone else is most likely mine. _  
_

_  
Ellen waited. She could feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat, while her body heat mingled with his. There really was no explanation to this situation. It just happened. And yet, nothing was happening. Ellen closed her eyes. Now she wouldn't have to be scrutinized under Travis's intense gaze. But still. Nothing happened. _

_ After what seemed like an hour (really only thirty seconds), Ellen felt movement. Travis leaned down and kissed the top of her forehead. Ellen opened her eyes only to face the grin on his face. He began to laugh. "You really _are_ naive, Droiress." Ellen opened her mouth to speak, alas, nothing came out. She couldn't let him get away with this stunt, for he had gone too far. With her right leg free, she brought it up, quickly, and kneed Travis in the stomach. This produced an '_umph' _on his part and he leaned back to grasp the assaulted area. "What the..." Ellen didn't let him finish as she got up and rammed into him. Now she was on top and he the subordinate. And Ellen smirked, while Travis frowned. In a mock tone she said, "And you really are weak." _

"_That's what you think," replied he. And Travis lifted her up again and rolled on top of her. The two ended up wrestling in the dirt for the rest of the time...  
_

* * *

DuPont stared at the captive and blinked again. _It is not you. You...died. You're dead, goddamn it! _DuPont reached both his arms out and grasped the other firmly on the shoulder. In a very strained voice, he spoke. "You are not, Ellen Droiress." DuPont cursed himself for not realizing the name earlier. "You cannot be her! I saw her..." He clenched his jaw while tightening his grip. And the lady did not flinch whatsoever. She stared back with an equally fierce gaze. Her golden brown eyes alight with fire. "Die?" she replied calmly. DuPont's face cracked slightly and he let her go, taking a few steps back. "Yes. She died." 

"I knew you were always weak."

"No." Growled DuPont. "I am not weak. I personally processed her."

Ellen straightened her back. Raising herself to her full height, she was still half a head shorter than him. "Yes. Processing. You processed me. But you never saw me die." Saying it with more sarcasm than was needed.

"It does not matter. I rid myself of you. You are merely an impostor. And you shall be processed once more." DuPont walked behind his desk in swift graceful movements and called Captain Rail. "Process the offender." In a matter of seconds, two guards entered and quickly cuffed 'Ellen'. DuPont waved his hand and they dragged her off. She did not utter a sound, but her face spoke volumes of betrayal. Directed at DuPont. Who turned his back on her to face out the window once more. _It is not her. Her appearance might resemble, but it is not her. She is gone. _DuPont would not believe the fact that the women that claimed to be Ellen Droiress was Ellen Droiress. He wouldn't. But there was one way to find the truth.

Archives.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Mmm..Travis. Where are you? I? What have you done? _

"_I'm sorry, Ellen." Toneless. Emotionless. There was no apology there. Only words with a touch of - nothing._

"_How...why?"_

"_I'm sorry." Hand. Graceful fluid motion. It happened again. Betrayed._

Ellen's eyes snapped open. Her body was upon a tiled floor. Cold. No. Cool. Yes, it felt cool against her flushed skin. No matter what, that dream never failed in making her body temperature rise. He had done this to her. Again. "Bastard," she said quietly to the stone walls.

She knew she had seen this place before, remembering the first time DuPont had processed her. "Bastard." A little louder. She had trusted him. Travis was...is...was her friend. Family. A manipulative, loving brother that she always yearned to have. And he was that 'loving brother' for twelve odd years. That was until..."Bastard!" she yelled, pounding her fist into the ground. That morning was seared into her memory forever. His voice..._I'm sorry..._branded her mind, imprinting an invisible scar on her very being. Ellen shook her head and sat up.

The room was stark. Foreboding. And quite institutional looking. It seemed more like the place to house a mental patient than a prisoner. Ellen scooted over into a corner, the upper left one to be exact, and she brought her knees up so that her arms could wrap around them. Ellen rested the side of her face on her propped legs and closed her eyes. There was nothing better to do. Except wait. But she didn't want to fall asleep because she knew that if she did, that dream would worm its way into the midst. No. Under all the circumstances, sleeping was not an option to be considered.

Instead of sleeping, she counted to herself. Not the regular "one, two, three, four." No, that was too boring. There was a different way to count; sticking with standard ways was dull. She and Travis had made it up. "Kill the neo. Shove the wot," Ellen said, slightly muted. "Pick the rheet. And build the Fuor. Heil. Heil. Heil. To the vife! And kick up dust to shoot the ise ix." It hurt her somewhat to be saying their little counting game. Hell, anything that was remotely related to the man hurt her, but she continued on. "Round and round, we will mingle to reach Ve Sen. Quick. Quick. Chop. Here it goes again. Stop. Bop. Rop. And behold the Geith." Ellen clenched her fists. "In en trop. Silently, let's lop. Come. Come. Swiftly now. Else it will shut down, and we'll be trapped bout Net...arrgh!" Ellen squeezed herself tighter. She remembered singing that 'song' with Travis in that abandoned house. They would joke around and dance sometimes while doing it. But all those games had ended. He had changed. She hadn't. Matured yes, but she still had the same personality. Unlike Travis. The man was...a different being. She no longer viewed him as human. He was mechanical. Cold. Heartless. But Ellen believed that somewhere within him was the young Travis she knew and loved. _Yeah. And maybe I'll get out of this shit hole._

Ellen gave up. Thinking about him was not going to make matters better. Instead, she focused on trying not to sleep, but even that proved annoying. She knew for a fact that sleep would be inescapable. One: she had no type of stay-awake drug; two: she was tired, bone-dead tired. But if anything, Ellen was strong-willed, and it would take some time for her to drift off. The question was, how long?

**Three Hours Later - 17:23**

Her head rolled from side to side as incoherent mumbles spilled from her mouth. Ellen was asleep. After two hours of fighting to stay awake, the inevitable won out. Her eyes closed, and it wouldn't be long before that niggling little dream squirmed through and broke amid her senses. Now, a little waiting game commenced as Ellen entered her REM sleep.

**Thirty Minutes Later – 17:53**

_World War III was a thing of the past. I knew it was. I thought it was. It was more or less...gone. And what resulted in__ the downfall of the War? The City of Libria. A seemingly perfect city. A place where disease was gone. Crime vanquished. And everyone – dead. Heh. Yeah. That's right. Dead. They were not people anymore, rather casts of the beings they once were. And all thanks to Prozium. A drug that suppressed all human emotions. A Utopian life? Pfft. Yeah. No. Libria is what one would call a dystopia. We are controlled by the Tetragrammaton Council. They are our puppet masters. We…well, you know. _

_Libria was being built during the middle of the war. Some big shots decided that if another war should erupt, mankind would cease to exist. So they initiated a plan. And yeah, they eliminated war, but they also created a bunch of walking vegetables. Anything that would even evoke emotion was destroyed. EC-10 as they called it. Emotion content. A rating on a movie. Wow, don't we feel like children. But movies were burned, paintings were destroyed, books, music, anything that would be a hindrance to the perfect life of Librians was torched. _

_I knew there had to be a way out. I knew that my best friend and 'brother' would not help me. Travis had grown up. As soon as he turned twenty, he walked out of my life. And now, hell, he's working for the Tetragrammaton. I knew that I would no longer see him. I knew he could care less if he saw me. I loved him. And I wish he would say the same about me. But it would be a lie. He never really told me. And I never really cared to find out. Too late now. _

_For months, I obeyed and took my two daily doses of Prozium. That golden yellow liquid that was injected into my neck, coupled with a sharp pain. Feeling that drug course through my veins. But as all dramas unfold, I met someone. A young man from the Underground. A secret organization that rebelled against the Council, the Cleric, the Recon, whatever. It all worked out._

_I thought I had forgotten what emotion felt like. But after a few missed doses of Prozium, I was free. I was released. Life had rewound back to the old times, before the war. I was set loose from my cage of government suppression. It was satisfying. _

_But...I never thought - in all my life - ..._he_...would do such a thing..."I'm sorry."_

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A/N: I would like to thank Bridgette for being my beta. Without her editing skills, this story would be chock full of mistakes. ) Anyways. Sorry it took so long to put up, I don't know when five will be up, but ummm...hopefully soon. As always thanks for reading. And review please. Tell me what you like, what you don't like? You know the drill. Happy Monday! 


	5. Chapter 5

**Averted Memories**_  
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_(Chapter 5__ )  
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_ This is ridiculous. One gaze at her and I don't know what I am doing. Where is that file! _Vice-Counsel DuPont slammed his fist on the black marble table. His eyes were moving rapidly across an open screen: a computer screen. It was embedded into his desk; whenever he had the whims of using it, he would merely flick it up. And at the moment, DuPont was growing angrier by the second.

The archives he had pulled up were not helping him whatsoever. And he needed, desperately, that file of Ellen Droiress. What had happened to her? What was she doing here now? Was she truly dead? Did she have a twin? How did she escape in the first place? All those questions kept running through the Vice-Counsel's head, a repetitious broken piece of EC-10 film. Endlessly reeling back and forth – with no answers to counter act. And with each passing profile, nothing helped to cool the fire that was roaring within. DuPont believed that their system would be more organized and most definitely more informational. But it seemed, as soon as the accused was burned, their file was erased. At least all their personal information was deleted. All that was left was there sense offense, or any offense for that matter, and their usual specs. The rest: history, contacts, occupation, etc, were all gone.

DuPont slammed the screen down with a deafening **crack**. He leaned back into his chair, tenting his fingers under his chin. _Does this irk you?_ "Yes..." _Why? _"Because...she's suppose to be dead!" yelled the man, his voice echoed off the pillars of his vast office. _Check with the man of the archives. He knows more than the computers._

DuPont scowled and rose up off his chair. "Captain."

"Yes," said the guard standing at his door.

"Find me, Nathaniel Krell, quickly."

"Sir." The guard nodded and exited DuPont's office.

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**A/N: **Well..this is the long overdo semi-chapter five. I thought I should post something up. And no, I have not forgotten about the story. -- if you guys have thought that. Heh. But I am working up a plot in my mind and it seems to be going well. I will be off to China next week, so I'm going to be writing on the plane. yippee. Sooo..please read and review. Thank you. 


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